


More Bonding, More Hate.

by BornToBeBeheaded



Category: Stage Fright (2014)
Genre: Blood and Gore, F/F, Hot theater opinons, Outdoor Sex, cute shit, slight angst
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-05
Updated: 2020-08-05
Packaged: 2021-03-05 21:07:12
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,115
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25721818
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BornToBeBeheaded/pseuds/BornToBeBeheaded
Summary: A sequel to Bonding Over Shared hate. How did the summer between you and Buddy Swanson end?
Relationships: Buddy Swanson X Reader, Buddy Swanson X You, Buddy Swanson and reader, Buddy Swanson and you
Comments: 1
Kudos: 1





	More Bonding, More Hate.

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Tinalbion](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Tinalbion/gifts).



> So here we are! I wrote another Buddy thing, mostly for @Tinalbion and myself, I just love Buddy too much to not. Not much to say about this really except I love it, it was fun to do and a good lead in to an upcomming collab story Tina and I have planned! As per usual feedback, suggestions, ideas, feedback are all encouraged, leave a comment here or shoot an ask to my tumblr, bisexual-horror-fan, I would LOVE to fill out more requests for people! And as per usual thank you for reading!

It was arguably the best summer you ever had.

Previously every summer was spent doing the things you hated most, memorizing lines and dance steps and blocking, sweating in theaters with poor ventilation and AC, costume fittings and of course the worst of the worst, your least favorite, having to be around insufferable, whiny theater kids.

Having grown up around them all your life you were just SO over it all, you know?

Theater kids could just be so damn stuck up and pretentious and superstitious and flat out ANNOYING. You felt like you had dealt with it all already, bad scene partners, people who stepped on your lines, catty understudy girls who were bitter they didn’t get a main role, bad singers, singers who were actually good but knew it and acted like they were the next best thing after Steven fucking Sodheim himself. The theater culture could be so weirdly inclusive and exclusionary at the same time, if you were gay or LGBT at all it was no big thing but oh dear LORD you haven’t seen the original cast recording of RENT with Idina Menzel than you were told-

“What are you doing even with your life?" 

And you were shunned just like that! RENT isn’t even good in your opinion, overrated-

"RENT is pretty and does nothing!”

You remember your rant being not well received by those same cast mates who shunned you despite your leading role those few summers ago in Grease. Not like you cared of course, it was another reason to hate your fellow cast mates and theater kids in general, as if you needed another reason. 

But those were tales of summers past. This summer was infinitely better. Away from family, at another theater camp, Centre Stage, a funny name because for once you were decidedly not centre stage. After purposefully botching your audition and shirking any other backstage work instead taking up a kitchen job.

That is where you met Buddy Swanson, head and to be fair the only other cook, and you and he became fast friends. He hated theater shit just as much as you did, he was hilarious and an amazing cook, he showed you so much and you had the best time between the work and hanging out with him.

When you instigated more one evening during tech week over a bottle of cooking wine it escalated quickly. You hadn’t really had a camp romance before, mostly because only going to theater camps all those romances were really ‘showmances’ and they read as so superficial to you. Like the only reason they happened was because you were in close proximity or had complimentary characters not because of actual attraction or anything real, just being near one and other and personally? Fuck that, you hated the idea of that.

But with Buddy you had so much in common, so much to talk about, always busy and you actually wanted to be around him all the time, looked forward to working in the kitchen with him every day. 

He could be just a little handsy when you two were alone, not like you minded, his hands on your hips and him leaning into you while you were washing dishes, all alone in the kitchen, late afternoon sun pouring in through the windows as you washed up the last lunch dishes before moving on to making dinner. Both laughing again over something that happened over lunch, that idiot kid who insisted on wearing that flesh tone leotard all the time hadn’t realized his tap shoes were untied and tripped, he ate shit pretty hard and you both found it hysterical. 

His arms wrapped around your middle as he leaned in closer, you could feel the last bit of his laughter rumbling in his chest, a little breathless and his mouth nipped lightly at your ear and then when he said,

“God I love your laugh.”

-you could hear the smile in his voice and it made a wide smile of your own break out. You turned around in his arms and got a terrible idea, a funny idea but a terrible one all the same, you leaned up and kissed him. His arms pulled you a little closer, a tiny bit tighter, his eyes fell closed and as he kissed you back you put your plan in action. Wet and soapy hands threaded in his hair, soon as he realized what you were doing his grip loosened, hands on your waist he started to try to pull away, you laughed against his mouth and with your hands still buried in his brown curls you pulled closer, he broke the kiss saying still a bit breathless, a small groan that broke off in a short laugh,

“No-no! Y/n wai-”

“Yes, yes!”

You responded with another laugh of your own, fingers released his hair only to drag over his face and came down to rest on his shoulders getting his shirt decently wet in the process. He finally managed to get away, hands gripped your waist harder as he pushed you back. You were laughing much harder now, watching as he tried to wipe away some of the soap and water from his hair and face, your laughter died when you saw how he was looking at you,

“Oh that’s it you’re gonna get it!”

He strode forward to the sink and you realized what he had in mind, when his hands reached into the sink you darted off, a look over your shoulder as you called out,

“No, no, no, Buddy I’m sorry-”

“No you aren’t but you’re gonna be!”

He called to you and with cupped hands he started after you, soap and water dripping from his fingers as he chased after you.

Perfect, playful and fun, just what you always wanted from summer vacation. He ended up catching up to you and by the end of your ‘fight’ you were both wet and soapy, your hips pressed against the prep table as he kissed you again, both dying of laughter once more. You let your arms fall from around his neck and said,

“Ugh well we should go hurry and get changed before starting in on dinner.”

“Bout that, tonight will be easy, I have a little surprise.”

“Oh?”

You asked as he took a step back, hand finding yours he motioned with the other for you to follow him, you did so and he lead you to the freezer, he opened the door and showed you what he had in mind,

“Frozen lasagna?”

You asked glancing up to him, a slight shiver from the freezer air hitting your still too wet form,

“Yup! I make some frozen stuff at the start of summer so some nights can be easier, less work, it can be so nice, particularly when it is so close to opening night.”

Opening night was supposed to be so soon, tomorrow actually. 

“So you can take the night off.”

“What really? You sure?”

“Yeah, this is nothing, I can get em in the oven, go change, the tins just get thrown out, no dishes except the serving spoons and the trays just go through the dishwasher. You’ve been working so hard you deserve a little break, I got this.”

So sweet!

You had been working all day everyday and while you did love it and love spending time with him the idea of getting a little time off for yourself sounded so appealing. 

“You sure? I know they are going to be pissed and you won’t hear the end of it because of-”

“The cheese.”

He finished your thought with an eye roll, recalling how many kids had taken umbrage with him over that. He cast one look over the freezer before letting the door close with a sigh and nodded as he continued,

“Yeah, yeah I know but fuck em. They can deal with one night of some cheese. It won’t kill em and trust me y/n I can handle them.”

He smiled and leaned one shoulder against the freezer door, you squeezed his hand that you were still holding and leaned up and gave him a kiss before saying,

“This is so damn sweet Buddy, thank you! If you are sure than yes that would be so great I would love to have some rest, spend some time in my cabin with no one else around.”

“My pleasure y/n. You deserve some you time.”

“Seriously thank you Buddy, you are the best!”

He walked you back to your cabin, you gave him several more kisses and thank yous before retreating inside, you got changed and spent the evening however you wanted it. Really relaxing and enjoying yourself, you decided much later on that you were hungry, you purposefully waited until you knew the theater kids would be cleared out, you certainly didn’t want to EAT with those animals, and made your way back to the mess hall. You saw the lights still on as expected and figured Buddy must still be inside cleaning up, you decided to take the usual back way that you and he did for your cooking shifts. Door pushed open and you were walking through the dish hallway to the kitchen when you heard something odd. Normally music would be blaring by this point, you would hear him moving around the kitchen, clearing and cleaning up, sometimes humming, the sounds of him very obviously working but right now you heard…

Nothing.

That was weird.

You turned the corner to see him sitting on one of the metal tables,

“Buddy?”

You called out softly, you saw him tense up, 

“Oh hey y/n. Wasn’t expecting you back tonight-”

You heard a sniff, was he?

Wiping his eyes now, oh God was he crying?

You rushed over,

“Buddy, are you okay?”

You had moved forward quickly and saw a very nice looking dinner spread out in front of him on the table,

“Yeah-I…I’m fine.”

He looked away from you, he obviously had been crying even though he tried to hide it, you placed your hand over his that was resting on the table top, he was sitting cross legged and seemed so hurt.

“No you’re not. You can talk to me, what’s wrong? What is all of this?”

He looked back to you and sighed, he gestured for you to sit on the table too, on the other side of him and this dinner he obviously spent a long time on.

Turns out there was another reason that he had some pre-prepared frozen dinners and another reason he gave you the night off. When he and Camillia were left alone on nights their mother was too busy performing Buddy from an early age, from before Centre Stage was open, he learned how to cook, he would make dinner some of those nights for he and his sister. The dinners got better and more complex, particularly after their mom passed away, once Centre Stage had opened when the summer was winding down and it was almost opening night Buddy would make a dinner for just them, different from the stuff they fed everyone else, he purposefully would plan it out and fudge the budget, sneaking in nicer items in the usual deliveries over the summer to make it happen. He loved his sister, a lot, that is part of why he was so fucking upset.

She was being terrible this summer, consumed with the fucking stupid play, not spending time with him, so self absorbed, he saw the worst qualities of their mother in her and he hated it. 

He wanted to keep this little tradition going, it was important to him, he thought it was important to her too, he asked her if she would be coming by, she knew why, knew what was happening and she said she would.

It was obvious now that she didn’t.

She was the only real family Buddy had left and it felt like she didn’t care about him, that she was okay just abandoning him and running off to be just like their mother, cold and narcissistic, uncaring and fame obsessed, lost in the spotlight of the theater. He was being so utterly open and vulnerable with you, so exposed, it was a side you hadn’t seen of him yet, it was so different but so nice. You took his hand and apologized for his sister’s behavior.

“I’m so fucking sorry she is being like that, you are a great brother, hopefully she wakes and sees that.”

He barked out a laugh, a short and bitter little thing, small smile finally breaking out, another sniff as he wiped his nose with the back of his hand,

“Thanks y/n, I really do appreciate it but you don’t have to apologize for her, and I dunno if she will. I dunno why I fuckin’ bother.”

You hated Camillia in that moment.

Fuck Camillia. 

What an absolute bitch.

How fucking dare she?

She said she would be there and she wasn’t and didn’t even give a reason, no call or anything, fuck her, Buddy deserved better. Deserved to be treated better. 

“I would hate for your dinner to go to waste. If you would have me I would love to share it with you.”

You squeezed his hand and he smiled again, wider, a little warmer and less broken and he said,

“Yeah I would really like that.”

Buddy wasn’t going to mope around about Camillia, not when you were here and being so comforting, you listened to him rant without complaint and were just here, present, and that was a hell of a lot more than he got from most people. 

Dinner reheated and you both ate, soon the mood was better, he was laughing as he was recounting what you missed with him serving dinner and the food was so fucking good. You already liked what he could make despite the poor budget at Centre Stage he normally found a way to make it work surprisingly well but this specially planned meal was something else-

“Camillia’s loss.”

-you thought as you indulged, enjoying sharing the dinner he made, you asked more about it, you loved when he talked about food. He was so passionate, he told you about the recipes he used, the challenges it presented, not just from sneaking and securing the required ingredients but from making it too. You loved it, you complimented it and listened and again, so important to him, you were just present, there in the moment with him. 

After dinner you both did the dishes to music playing from the radio, dessert was shared sitting outside on the back porch behind the mess hall, looking up at the night sky. He was in a much, much better mood. You couldn’t help looking at him, the soft smile on his face, leaning forward slightly, forearms resting on his knees as he looked skyward, you loved how his hair looked in the moonlight. 

It was a wonderfully unexpected date night, you really turned it around for him. 

You had a different kind of hunger now, a different craving, you set your plate down and got on your knees, you crawled forward on your knees, hand reached out for his, you were on your knees in front of him now, your other hand reached up and you pulled him into you. A soft kiss turned heated so quickly as he deepened it. 

It was hot but slow that night, you provided even more comfort for him, it was so needed and reassuring, hands roaming, trying to convey how much he meant to you in such a short time. Soft praise and kind words spoken against his mouth, his neck and in his ear as you were on top. Both partially dressed, you leaning forward practically chest to chest as your hips rose and fell, his hands on your hips, and his own mouth on you and his words urging you on. 

You had always wanted to have sex outside and fuck if your first experience wasn’t made all the better by having it with Buddy.

Both laying back on the hardwood of the back porch, looking up at the sky you felt ready for tomorrow. It was opening night, it was going to be so busy for sure but you were excited all the same, you would get through it with Buddy by your side.

What a wonderful night. You couldn’t stop smiling when you were falling asleep that night.

The next morning was chaotic to say the least. 

Artie Getz was a piece of shit.

You never liked him, ever since you worked with him on that one production of Joseph And The Amazing Technicolor Dreamcoat you hated him. He was a scumbag, you had seen his type before, the kind of guy who used his pull and his clout and power to get desperate girls to do whatever he wanted. He only gave parts to women based on what they could ‘provide’ him. 

Fucking creep.

All that said, you didn’t want him to die. 

There was talk of foul play, of murder but Roger assured everyone it was an unfortunate car accident and that-

“The show must go on!”

-when the impromptu musical number started you bailed. Gagging as you walked off, talk about tacky and tasteless. 

You felt kind of off and nervous most of the day, Buddy seemed distracted and in less good spirits but considering everything you knew it made sense. Why wouldn’t he be worried? It was opening night, stressful enough, but not just any opening night, opening night for the revival show on the ten year anniversary of their mothers death, the same show SHE died on opening night of that now his sister was in, reprising the role that their mother had. He was obviously nervous and concerned for his sister and you couldn’t blame him one bit. You did your best to keep him distracted that day, kept the mood light as you could, you got him smiling and laughing again and felt better about being able to help him. 

Buddy told you not to go to the show.

“I fuckin’ HAVE to or Camillia will kill me but there is no reason you have to suffer too y/n.” 

“I know this sucks for you though! It’s a hard night, you shouldn’t have to go through it alone.”

He scoffed and rolled his eyes when he brushed you off,

“Don’t worry about me, I will be fine. When they have their shitty little cast party we can meet back up and I can tell you about how terrible it was.”

Well he really seemed set on going on his own so you decided to listen. Beside a kabuki version of The Haunting Of The Opera did sound truly fucking awful and you wouldn’t be sad to miss it.

Dinner that night was terrible like he told you it would be. Everyone was in a bitchy mood, frantic and even more ridiculous, the mess was big and it took a while to clean up but you both managed it. You both certainly had enough practice working together at this point. Once dinner was done as was the clean up he had to head off to get his seat. You watched him go and then you got an idea.

A very good idea.

His dinner last night was wonderful, he was so great, tonight was so hard and such a big deal that you decided to surprise him.

You had both already made the food for the cast party earlier. Trays of stuff sitting and waiting in the fridge. More budget was devoted to this since it was a big deal, the stuff you had made was really good so you decided to do a little ‘rearranging’ make a tray for just he and you to share, make a special dessert and bust out another terrible bottle of that cooking wine for old times sake and he and you could have a private party for two. It was still a gorgeous night and you had a great spot picked out near the lake. All you would have to do was near the end of the time the show was done would be to go in and collect what you needed and sneak it out, it would be easy with everyone watching and acting in the play and then you’d meet up with Buddy afterwards and take him to your spot for your surprise date. 

When you walked into the kitchen you were shocked.

You were a little dressed up, excited and ready to pull together the surprise when you had a surprise of your own. 

Buddy was on the floor. The kitchen a mess, obvious signs of a struggle, a knife, blood, so much fucking blood. You fell to your knees and tried to shake him awake. You could hardly see through the tears, babbling incoherently, practically shouting his name when he opened his eyes. 

“H-hey y/n…”

“Buddy! Jesus fucking Christ what happened?!”

It made too much sense when he explained it. 

Were you an idiot for believing it? 

Maybe.

Did you care?

Not really.

Fuck Camillia, fuck Roger, fuck Center Stage, and most importantly, most assuredly, fuck theater. 

You helped him.

Of course you did, what were you going to do?

Let him bleed out and die on the kitchen floor? 

Turn him in?

God no! That was unthinkable.

He was just so good, he had been dealt such a shitty hand. He deserved to achieve his dreams, do what he wanted to do, open that restaurant and all those other sweet little things and plans he told you in confidence late at night in this same kitchen. 

You helped patch him up, you took Roger’s car, helped him pack his things, worked out the plan with him. 

You packed your own bag, a plan to meet up outside the mess hall and fucking leave, just leave it all behind. 

You found the note smeared with blood. 

He thanked you and thanked you and told you he loved you so much but he couldn’t do this to you. Couldn’t make you leave your whole life behind even if you did hate theater and your family, he was worried you would regret it, you were just too sweet, he felt like you deserved better than him, more than him. Better than being on the lamb and running from the law, a whole life changed and shaped by what he did, the shadow of his crimes hanging over you two like the sword of damocles, he knew what he was getting into, he was willing to take the risk from the get go but he could never ask you to join him in this. So he wrote the note full of love and admiration and thank yours and apologies and left it behind just like Centre Stage.

You were able to play off your crying easily to the cops, I mean most people were crying because of the murders and again you WERE a good actor. 

You understood why he did it but didn’t like it one bit. You would miss him and hoped that wherever Buddy Swanson ended up that he would do better and be better, be happier, fulfill those dreams of his and the relationship you two shared gave you the courage to finally tell your family to fuck off and you were done with theater.

You still thought of him and that summer sometimes. When The Haunting Of The Opera got picked up for broadway and the positive reviews for his sister poured in, you wondered if he knew and what he thought of that. You would think of him when you would eat balsamic chicken, the first thing he showed you how to cook or when you saw a dish in a restaurant you thought he might like or when you would catch sight of a tall man with curly brown hair out of the corner of your eye, making your heart stop for a second before realizing it wasn’t him.

You thought of him a little too often but what could you do?

You had no idea where he ended up.

Stupid theater kid that you were deep down you couldn’t help but hum it when you thought of him and the relationship you shared, that line from that song from Wicked reverberating in your skull,

“Who can say if I have been changed for the better. But because I knew you. I have been changed for good.”


End file.
